


The Wrong Number for Tech Support

by SilvorMoon



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS
Genre: Canon Compliant, Customer Service & Tech Support, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 18:58:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17966177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilvorMoon/pseuds/SilvorMoon
Summary: Ryoken has a lot to do right now. Answering wrong numbers is a distraction he could do without, especially when they just won't give up.





	The Wrong Number for Tech Support

The view from Ryoken’s seagoing office was a beautiful one, all blue sky and rolling waves, with the faintest touch of green from the distant mainland, but he was in no mental space to appreciate it. All his efforts just now were bent towards his many projects, starting with getting Baira out of prison and moving on from there. 

He was, in fact, so deeply absorbed in his work that he almost didn’t notice when his phone trilled. His first thought was that it was Spectre, calling to be picked up. He’d been dispatched to the mainland to pick up a few groceries and other necessities. Ryoken appreciated that. He might be the mastermind behind their current enterprise, and Baira, Faust, and Genome all had their special skills, but their team wouldn’t have been complete without someone like Spectre who didn’t mind taking care of the down-to-earth things. It might not have been the most glamorous job, but they’d have been lost without him around to make sure they didn’t run out of toilet paper and to order them to get some sleep and food once in a while. 

_I really must have let the time get past me if he’s calling to be picked up already. I hope nothing has gone wrong..._

But even as he was answering the call, he realized that Spectre hadn’t been gone half an hour - barely long enough for him to get from their secluded landing dock to the grocery store, much less to shop and come back. A quick burst of panic flared up: something _had_ gone wrong... 

“Yes?” he said tersely. 

A haughty woman’s voice said, “That is a very unprofessional way to answer the phone.” 

Ryoken frowned. “Ma’am, I think you’ve...” 

“Don’t contradict me! That is very rude! Now, the reason I’m calling...” 

She chattered on about something or other that her computer was doing, while Ryoken sat in shock. Clearly, this rattle-brained woman thought that she had called tech support. The thought of how nearly right and completely wrong she was almost made him laugh. 

“You’ve called the wrong number,” he said, and hung up. 

He hadn’t even gotten his fingers back on the keyboard before the phone rang again. He picked it up. 

“How dare you hang up on me! I want to speak to your supervisor right now!” 

Ryoken flirted with the idea of calling for Dr. Faust and handing the phone over to him. He had the right sort of soothing manner for this, and no doubt he could solve this woman’s problems for her in no time. There was no one on this boat just now who couldn’t make a computer do anything short of sit up and do the hula, but there really wasn’t time for that sort of nonsense. 

“I told you, you have the wrong number,” he said firmly. 

“I do not,” she insisted. “You’re just being lazy. If you don’t want to solve my problem, then hand me over to someone who will. If you don’t, I’m going to call corporate and have you fired!” 

_I would love to see you try it,_ Ryoken thought. He imagined the fun someone would have if she did call corporate, trying to figure out exactly who she’d been talking to. 

“You can’t,” he said, “because this is not the number for tech support, and I’m hanging up now.” 

He suited action to words. He returned to his work, but he hadn’t taken more than three breaths before the phone started ringing again. He ignored it. It rang some more. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue working. The phone carried on regardless. 

So here was a conundrum. He couldn’t just silence his phone because he needed Spectre to be able to get hold of him if something came up. Spectre was reliable, but he had abandonment issues, and was liable to panic if he found himself cut off from Ryoken with no explanation. On the other hand, Ryoken didn’t want to sit here listening to the phone ringing for however long it took this irritating woman to get the hint, and he didn’t want his lines of communication tied up while he waited for her to go away. He sighed and picked up the phone. 

“Good afternoon, you’ve reached tech support,” he said mildly. “How may I help you today?” 

“Finally!” the woman huffed. “That last man I talked to was so rude!” 

“I’ll be sure to have someone speak to him,” said Ryoken. Well, that was true enough - someone was bound to come along to talk to him eventually. “Now, what seems to be the problem?” 

The woman rambled on at great length about her computer’s perceived problems. Ryoken suspected that half of it was that she simply didn’t know how computers were supposed to work. From the sound of it, she’d once learned to use a computer that ran Windows 95 and hadn’t bothered to learn anything since. 

“All right,” he said at last. “I want to do some diagnostics first. Can you go to the settings menu? Click in the lower left corner of your screen... No, _lower_ left. All right, now click the one that says connection settings. Can you read me the number in the box on top?” 

He jotted something down on a scrap piece of paper. After asking a few more questions, he had her change a few settings here and there. The fix had taken a little longer than it needed to, but in a situation like this he wanted to be thorough. 

“All right,” he said at last. “That should take care of the problem, but if still doesn’t work, just call this number.” 

He gave her the number of Kusanagi’s hot dog stand. Then he said his goodbyes and hung up. He turned back to his computer, but not to continue with his project. No, he had something else to take care of first. He fished through the drawers of his desk until he found a data stick that contained one of Baira’s special toys - a particularly subtle and nasty virus designed to turn a functioning computer into so much scrap metal. Thanks to the various numbers he’d had his would-be customer give him, singling out her computer among all the others in the world would be no trouble at all, and some of the changes he’d made to her settings would give him total access to everything in it while severely inconveniencing anyone who tried to fix it. The virus would sit quietly in the background for a few days before making its move, by which point this woman would no doubt have forgotten all about the nice man at tech support she’d talked to. 

_I suppose we can think of it as a trial run for the main event,_ Ryoken told himself, as he released the program into the ether. He’d added a rider to make it look as though she’d gotten the virus from visiting some truly unique websites. He wondered what the rest of her family was going to think of her, or vice versa, when that bit of data turned up. _Anyway, it will give Playmaker and his friend something to occupy themselves with while I’m busy. It’s practically a good deed._

With that comforting thought in mind, he returned to his work.


End file.
